The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Good morning, my gorgeous little nebula.” Mistress’s words wake me, filling me with sweet purpose. Her fingers slide through my hair as my eyes blink through the fuzz to gaze into hers. She has the most perfect eyes in the world, and I set myself to fuzzily memorizing the patterns in her irises. “Such unique eyes, and they’re all mine. I control where they gaze, for how long, and why. So . . . thrilling.”

“Thank you Mistress, and yes, you own and control every aspect of my existence. I am yours to do with as you desire, and I yearn to please.” Hearing things like that, saying things like that, it all sends such magnificent pleasure arcing through me. No words have ever been more true.

Feeling the warmth of her body against mine makes it harder to struggle awake. She’s so smooth, and my body keeps rubbing against hers every time I stretch in ways that make to harder to do anything but rub more. My entire body is an erogenous zone when she’s doing the touching. Being near her makes me feel so weak and in constant awe of her every marvelous detail. Mistress is the most wonderful woman in the world, a goddess in mortal guise.

Her nails claw down my scalp, and all I can manage in response is a series of quick gasps. Mistress’s amused laughter is such a pretty sound. “I wish we could stay here all day little one, but while we stayed here yesterday the rest of your band was being recruited. Sooner you meet them, sooner we can get you out on stage.”

The sooner I can get on stage the better. I don’t even know what songs I’ll be singing, or for that matter the genre, and already I’m excited. I’d sing anything for Mistress, which makes those details unimportant.

“May I at least pleasure Mistress before we leave? The office is so far away, and I crave to worship your flesh, to show my obedience.” I caress along her thigh with my fingertips, careful not to move them too close to her sex without permission. I don’t need further instruction to know that she is the final decider in all of my actions. I can show initiative, but she must approve or it drifts pointlessly away.

Mistress slowly spreads her legs and I indulge my fingers along her inner thighs. I want to slide down between them, kissing, nibbling, anything she wants, but something about the expression on her face says she’s plotting. I hope it’s a plot for me.

She hasn’t said yes, but she hasn’t said no either. Slowly I kiss my way down along her body and savor the taste and texture of her skin. Mistress squirms only faintly. Her sounds soft and quiet, but they send quakes through my body just as deeply as if they were screams. Making her feel pleasure is one of my most important purposes. Not only is it important, it keeps her thinking about me. If she chooses someone else to share her bed I won’t be able to object. I need to show her, prove to her, that I’m the best for the job so that never happens.

It’s an interview that only ends when we fall asleep, and begins anew soon as we wake.

Right as my lips reach her hip, Mistress’s hands pull my face from her skin and guide my body back up along hers. Her eyes look into mine, and I melt limply against her. Her gaze is so piercing. I can feel it prying into my thoughts, silencing them.

“To show your obedience? You crave to worship my flesh as much for the sexual thrill as for the obedience. I think I know just the way you can show your obedience, and earn your pleasure. Though the band has been indoctrinated, none of them took to it nearly as quickly, or as deeply, as you did. Today, to bring me pleasure, to show your obedience, you will make your band members just as much mine as you are.” Mistress hoods her eyes, and kisses me just long enough to feel my lips. “Then, you can show your obedience between my thighs.”

Mistress knows what my powers can do, and she knows how eager I am to obey. I’ve been eager to meet my band members, and this way I get to meet them so much deeper. “I will have them craving to please you with each breath they take, each note for you, each moment for you, just like me. We’ll be the closest band anyone has ever seen.”

“I know you will. Then tomorrow you can begin to rehearse. If you can get them molded into obedient little music slaves quick enough we might even be able to secure a small venue by the end of the week.” I’m not sure if that’s her eyes glittering or the glow from my eyes reflecting, but I know we both love the sound of that. As if the chance to show her how deeply I crave to obey her isn’t enough, that motivation would push it far past the edge.

“I will obey, Mistress. I crave your satisfaction so much more than the sex.” Boldly yet delicately I press my lips to hers and keep them there, just melting against her, feeling her body rise and fall under mine.

Serving her is perfect bliss. Serving her will get me on that stage. By the end of the day, my band will be serving her with just as much passion. They will have as much choice in the matter as I did.

On the way up the elevator I find myself humming along with our song. It’s not making me sink, but it doesn’t have to. It only has to do that when I won’t obey on my own, and I’m being very obedient by letting the song melt from my lips as I dance in place along with the melody. Mistress’s eyes tell me that she enjoys as I do a little spin along with a flourish in the song.

“The band is all waiting for you in the room where we met. I’m very interested in seeing you in action.” Her voice makes me tingle down to the tips of my toes. She wants to see me in action. Her phrasing sounds so incredibly hot. She always knows just what to say.

Hot. I didn’t used to sound like this in my head. My phrasings used to be more intellectual, at least I always thought so. Being hers means conforming to what she wants me to be as much as what she wants me to do. Knowing that it’s affected me so deeply makes me shudder.

I rub up against her, my body sliding along hers to incorporate a long note in the song to my dance. “I will make sure not to disappoint.” That’s the absolute last thing I ever want to do.

Mistress just grins and pulls me into her arms. Her eyes lock with mine and I melt limply against her as I lose myself in her depths. My Mistress, my owner, my world, my everything. Her eyes are so deep I could lose myself in them forever, never able to find my way out again. If she tried, I wouldn’t be able to resist and she knows it.

With a soft ding the elevator doors open, and Mistress’s hands rise to grasp my shoulders. The touch confuses me until she gently twirls me around and pushes me forward. “I’m sure you will, but now is not the time to melt. If you’re a good little frontwoman, you’ll be melting soon after your band does.”

If I wasn’t already eager to meet the band, I definitely am now.

Mistress follows close behind as I pull open the door. Her two assistants are sitting at the end of the table farthest from the door at the same places I first saw them. On the other side, three women are sitting and staring at me with expressions of mingled confusion and a far too deep understanding. The seat directly opposite Mistress’s is empty. Of course it is, that has to be my seat. Eagerly I approach it, wiggling my fingers in a wave towards my new (and soon to be very close) friends.

As I sit down, Mistress sits and her assistants draw close. Mistress asks something that sounds like one of us is missing, but I can’t quite make it out. Miss Leighton and Miss Tanzi sound like they’re trying to assure her the situation is being taken care of, but that doesn’t seem to make Mistress calm down.

That’s not good. If one of us didn’t show up that could mean somehow the mental conditioning didn’t take. That could mean Soaring Phoenix is in trouble, and I won’t let that happen. If she doesn’t show up soon I’ll go after her myself!

None of my fellow musicians say a word. They seem muted, withdrawn, very much like victims that know they’re victims. The seat to my right is empty, but at my left sits a girl with long brown hair tied back in a long, gorgeously thick braid. She’s pretty, they’re all pretty, even if she makes me feel a little secure. Something about her looks a little plain, and even without the new wardrobe of chest-emphasizing clothing I would feel a little impressive.

A chair ahead of me to the right side of table sits a blonde girl who looks younger than me, but in that way where she could be three years older than me and I wouldn’t know it. She just has a young face, and even sitting down I can tell she’s short. It makes her proportions that much more eye catching. Her hair is a cutely short blonde, falling in styled spikes around her face. Her eyes are a pretty shade of pearl green.

Across from the blonde sits a woman with green hair that has to be dyed. She doesn’t look much taller than the blonde, but her hair is a good deal longer and pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes look an equally unnatural yellow (definitely contacts), and even looking uncertain, her smile has a special pull.

I’m eager to know everything I can, but none of them seem ready to talk to me and one of us is still missing. Mistress looks about ready to break into a cold sweat or scream as the door opens. “Sorry, sorry I’m late. Really. I overslept.” A tall redhead stands in the door, her hand to her head as if to fight off a headache. “Was starving, wanted to grab a bite to eat before I got here, and there was this story on the news about this chick named Electrum who busted up some Syndicate slime. Saw the clock and got this splitting headache. You can stop trying to break my head in half to get me to fall in line already. I know I can’t fight it.”

So Aurora made the news, huh? Unless Mistress brings it up, I’ll put it out of mind.

Her voice doesn’t agree with her words. I can taste the defiance and anger in her tone. Even after all that Mistress must have put her through, she still has such a strong free will. From the look of her, it’s something she’s put a lot of effort into. She’s wearing a short sleeved black t-shirt that would draw anyone’s attention to her arms. She has to work out. She grits her teeth as her other hand slides up to the other side of her forehead.

She really is fighting. It’s so delicious to watch, yet painful. Some part of the programming must not have settled right. She shouldn’t be in pain like this, but it won’t be for much longer.

“I’m afraid that I didn’t have anything put into your head that should be hurting you, Nikki, not even if you’ve been a bad girl. We’ll need to fix that.” Mistress shakes her head with a disappointed sigh, but at least she seems to be calming down. “And now that you’re here, we can fix that. But you haven’t all been properly introduced. Rachel, Joan, if you could coordinate with Shannon, and see about grabbing us a gig for Friday? I can handle this meeting.”

They nod in perfect unison and smile as they stand, again in perfect unison, and leave almost silently. The door locks behind them, and I shudder at the added level of helplessness. There’s no escape, and that’s just the way I want it.

There’s a noticeable shift in everyone’s posture as they leave. All of the girls, besides Nikki but not excluding me, melt just a little more into our seats. Mistress leans closer to us over the table.

The redhead stiffens and grabs her head so much more firmly.

“Now that we’re all alone, we can get down to business. My assistants are quite useful at getting things done on the business side of things. They’re notoriously single minded.” She laughs at a joke I’m not sure I understand, but I still laugh with her. Her eyes twinkle. “Introduce yourselves to each other. Don’t feel any need to go too in depth, you’ll all be getting to know one another very, very well. It’s important for a band to function as a family.”

As a family? With the edge of heat her voice carries I can only imagine she means a family very much like the one I was raised in. Incestuous families are the best.

“If you would do us the honor of starting us off, Sylvia?” Her eyes lock with mine again, but this time I don’t melt. This time, I feel her eyes boring into me with purpose, and I pull myself up to my feet with a smile and a nod. “Thank you, my little nebula.”

“Thank you, Mistress. My name is Sylvia LaSilvas, and I’ll be Mistress’s singer, and frontwoman. I grew up in Midas City, and I’ve been waiting for this day all of my life.” My body almost feels like it sits back down on its own as a shudder of pleasure courses through me for my obedience. With only my “sisters” and Mistress here there’s no reason to hold back the signs of my pleasure.

Mistress makes a soft pleasured sound, and turns her gaze to Nikki. Her hands tighten as she tries to hide from Mistress’s gaze. She almost manages, but fails in the last moment with a soft whimper. “Nikki, would you like to go next?”

To my surprise, and I think everyone else’s, she slowly shakes her head. She’s clenching her jaw so hard . . . it looks so painful. Her head shakes, slowly, and her hair flows side to side with the motion. She has such gorgeous hair, even if her eyes have such ugly disobedience behind them. Her body shakes in her chair as if the temperature of the room just rose ten degrees. Her face turns pale.

She looks so miserable, poor Nikki. Why is she fighting Mistress? How can she fight Mistress? Surely they subjected her to the same song, or something even stronger. Doubtlessly she had to go through a much longer contract negotiation. Somehow she’s still fighting.

Mistress elegantly rises from her chair and leans against the table. “Is it so much to ask for you to introduce yourself? You know how lovely it will feel to give that to me, don’t you? Even still, this is such a small thing to give. You can’t even introduce yourself to the women you’ll be with on stage? That’s hardly fair to Sylvia. She was kind enough to go first.”

“Can’t give you anything! Can’t . . . Tried not to come, tried so hard, even with the headache, and somehow I still wound up here. I tried to call my mother or the police, and I called Miss Strand instead. She put me on hold, and it was that fucking song!” Nikki quivers almost as much as her voice, and I can see her nipples pushing against that black fabric so tantalizingly. “Had it in my head till I got to the elevator, it guided me here, but then it snapped. Fucking bitch. I don’t want to be your fucking toy!”

Mistress sighs, shaking her head again with an expression of mock sadness. If I couldn’t see the telltale signs in her eyes I might think it was genuine. “But you are, and you will. Sylvia, I think it’s time that you begin your little demonstration. Loosen Nikki’s tongue.”

Squealing, I rise to my feet so fast I almost fall. If the table weren’t there, I likely would have. Nikki looks to me as Mistress breaks their eye contact. I can see the fear in her eyes, just as I can see the seeds of desire that Mistress planted so deep in her fertile mind. There’s nothing she can do to fight this, only delay the inevitable and to lose that much more of herself when I melt away her resistance.

Even sitting she’s taller than me, but not so tall as to make it hard for my hands to reach her shoulders. She’s so tense. The sheer physical effort she’s putting out would be enough to explain the pain she’s in. As soon is my shimmering mist begins to melt into her from my kneading fingers, I can feel that tension liquefy.

Her body feels so firm and strong under my touch, and feeling it weaken is such a rush. She trembles in a new way as I guide my mist into her body, both up along her neck and down along her arms. For a fleeting moment Nikki starts to tense again, her fingertips twitching as she sucks in a quick sequence of gasps. As that moment fades, her body begins to turn slack, and her mouth slowly melts open. Through my mist I can feel her anger and fear subside, replaced by a silky feeling of tender relaxation. Slowly her arms fall to her sides, and she melts back in her chair with fluttering eyes.

I mist my lips before pressing them against her ear. She groans, and I can feel her struggle to resist the arousal that pulses inside her. There’s an added sensation, an apprehension that I hadn’t felt when my touches were only at her shoulders. Does Nikki not like girls? That doesn’t really matter. She will soon.

“Do what Mistress wants you to do, Nikki. You want to be a good girl for Mistress, you know that you do. It’s not as if you have a choice, anyway. You may as well enjoy it. You may as well savor this. I want to help Mistress make you feel good. Give her a reason to want you feeling yummy . . .” My voice along with a healthy stream of mist melts into her ear as my hands trail down along her arms. I want to feel these strong arms holding me tight. “You can’t resist the song, and you definitely can’t resist me.”

The wheels on Nikki’s chair help me pull her away from the table easily, and she makes an adorable gasping sound in surprise. She stiffens as I straddle her, lacing my misty fingers again through her hair. She has such deep, dark blue eyes that look so much more gorgeous glazed with that internal struggle and intelligence melting away.

Her body arches against mine as I make it sizzle, and as I gently ease off the flow of my power she melts back limply with a groan. As she melts, I rub closer, pulling her head down so I can press my forehead to hers. “For I have become Mistress’s voice, as you are becoming yet another instrument for her to play. What an instrument wants, doesn’t matter. Instruments can’t resist. Instruments must obey their owners. I’m obeying our owner, and she’s told me to use my pretty voice on you. That means you can’t resist any more than I can.”

Mistress very specifically mentioned her lips. I’m not going to avoid this chance. I press my lips against hers just enough to feel them react. She stiffens again, but then melts even more limply. When I mist my lips, covering them with light and bliss, she kisses me back. When I part my lips, she parts hers.

I hold the kiss for what feels like an eternity before finally sliding off her lap and gazing down at her with hooded eyes. She has amazing lips. Wobbling, I push her chair back in.

“Caaaan’t resssist . . . Mmmmm . . . S-such a pretty voice . . .” When she isn’t angry, she has a gorgeous voice too. It’s not quite as melodic as mine, but with a little work, and some lessons, I think it could complement mine perfectly. “Will do what Mistress says.”

All of the fire in Nikki’s voice is so deliciously replaced with passive bliss. Her apprehension is replaced with acceptance. None of her defiance remains.

It’s impossible to be too sure, so I reinforce her state of melting bliss with a trail of especially sparked nibbles along her neck. The groans that roll from her throat make the other girls squirm. They make me feel damp. I stop my hands at the last minute from grasping her breasts. It would be too soon, and Mistress needs her to be able to walk today. “Then please dear, introduce yourself.”

“Mmmy name is Nikki Blanc . . . I grew up in Oakland, and I’m Mistress’s guitarist. I’ve been playing since I was a little girl on my mommy’s guitar, and she always used to sing me to sleep.” Her voice sounds lost in a day dream of those songs. I’ll need to be the one singing her to sleep, and making sure she gets up on time.

Mistress claps her hands together happily, and the sound startles Nikki. If her melting weren’t so physical, I think it would have been enough to jar her back to consciousness. She has such a powerful mind. “Heather?”

The girl with the long braid looks up towards Mistress and quivers subtly. If I wasn’t watching her for it, I would miss it. Her body straightens up as she arches into Mistress’s gaze. There’s still something in her eyes less than obedience and craving, but it isn’t as furious as what was inside Nikki. It looks more like confusion and uncertainty, like a little girl who knows she’s doing something that’s supposed to be wrong but can’t quite bring herself to rebel.

Something about that expression makes her look so incredibly adorable, and somehow older. There’s a dulled wisdom in her eyes, struggling to rationalize and come to some sort of a conclusion, but she can’t quite grab hold of it.

She rises like I did, though with far more uncertainty. “My name is Heather Lund, I grew up in Chicago, and I’ll . . . I’ll be our bassist.”

“You’ll be my bassist, isn’t that right Heather?” Mistress notices the slight insubordination just as clearly as I do. Of course, her stuttering would have pointed it out even if we weren’t paying attention. “The sooner you accept your role, Heather, the sooner you’ll realize you never had a choice and that was the only choice you wanted.”

“Nnn . . . Nikki . . . she fought it. Then Sylvia did . . . did something to her. Don’t know wha- mmmm . . .” Heather shudders, and my lips curve into a faint grin. “I am . . . Mistress’s bassist . . . Nnn-no . . .”

Mistress turns her gaze from Heather to me, and I nod silently in response before slowly approaching Heather. She isn’t just Mistress’s bassist. She’s going to be my bassist. I’m still Mistress’s, so that still makes her Mistress’s property, but it’s still important to me. She’s going to be my subordinate, plucking away at her bass to make it sweeter to listen to my lyrics.

Can’t have a naughty girl like her thinking she can surrender only half way. “Yes, you are Mistress’s bassist. You are her little song-slave for her to use however she wants. Lucky for you, she happens to enjoy your musical talent.” Her braid makes the perfect leash, and I grasp it tight before pulling her head back against the chair, tracing my mist slowly up along the weave of her hair. “Say it the way Mistress wants you to say it. You want to feel as good as Nikki feels now that she’s obeyed, don’t you?”

From the corner of my eye I can see the green haired girl watching my power flow, fascinated. I turn to watch her eyes as I force my mist to flow faster, climbing up to melt deeply into Heather’s scalp and fuzz over her mind.

Mistress said converting a band usually takes much longer than this, but they’ve never used a woman like me before. I can streamline this process. We won’t be needing to wear down defenses, we’ll be annihilating them entirely. Already, Heather begins to slacken in her seat, whimpering, humming faintly with the back beat of the song.

I release her braid, and softly kiss up her neck. “Now, say it. Say it, and feel the sweet pleasure that can only come from giving in to Mistress’s song. Becoming a part of Mistress’s song, that’s what you really crave, even more than the lime light, or your free will.”

As my voice trails off, growing softer, she starts to softly mewl along with the song. It’s the same song, and now it’s our song, too. “I am . . . Mistress’s bassist . . . Ooh . . .”

“My sweet little nebula is so good at showing her musical sisters just what this band is all about. Tasha, would you like to go next?” Mistress’s gaze turns slowly to the green haired woman, and I purr as she looks to me before Mistress.

I wonder what must be going through her mind. If she obeys straight out, Mistress won’t likely order me to melt her will into a puddle. At he same time, will it just be in the hopes of holding on to her free will in some way for just a little longer? Either way, by the end of this meeting I’ll need to melt them all. There will need to be so much melting.

Tasha grabs onto her green tails of hair, and tugs them just enough to make the top of her hair flatten until she releases them. “I’m Tasha Pavl, I’m from here in New York, and I’m Mistress’s keyboardist, with familiarity in so many other instruments.”

Her smile grows just a little as she obeys. Her eyes glass, looking even more gorgeous than they already do through their artificial yellow lenses. She might have been resisting through obedience before, but the pleasure is too much for her to struggle against, and her hands gracefully fall to her lap. She looks so adorably docile as her smile continues to grow. Her lips look so impossibly soft. I can’t wait for a chance to give her a long misted kiss.

“Very, very good. Hopefully this is the start of a trend. Leigh? Would you like to finish us off?” Mistress turns to the busty blonde, and I follow her gaze. A guitarist, a bassist, a keyboardist . . . there are limited remaining options.

“My name . . .” She glances into my eyes, and I glance back. In her eyes, I don’t think I’m watching her argue which choice would let her keep more of herself. I think she’s struggling to decide which would feel better. Does she obey because it will feel good and she feels driven to, or will she disobey and be forced to obey in a wave of shimmering bliss? “My name is Leigh Floyd, I’m from Jacksonville Florida, and I’m . .. I’m Mistress’s drummer. Oooh . . .”

Leigh almost groans as she melts back into her char, and I quiver. Even merely serving as a threat, I grow Mistress’s control over her slaves, over our band. She looks so pleased, and it’s because of me.

Mistress sits back in her chair as her eyes hood and her lips curve in a delicious grin. “That wasn’t so bad, was it girls? The more you obey, the better you’ll feel, until you forget there was ever anything else. That’s the real reward. You learn to forget there was ever anything else, and dread the obedience ever coming to an end. Isn’t that right, my nebula?”

“Yes, Mistress . . .” I move to stand behind my chair, eyes hooded. “That’s right, Mistress. I never want to lose the way you make me feel. I never want to go back to what I had before. I can still remember it, but only to better serve you.”

“Perfect. Now, Sylvia . . . I believe it’s time for this meeting to truly get under way. For the other girls, we have these. You, should be fine with a command to hear it.” Grinning, Mistress steps over to a cabinet I hadn’t noticed and withdraws four sets of wireless headphones. “Through these, they’ll hear the song. You, will lay on the table amidst them, and fill them all with your lovely power at once as they listen. By the end of the day, I don’t think they’ll be in much position to resist at all, do you?”

I look into her eyes, and see just how rhetorical the question is.

A whole day, nothing but the song and my mist, making me cold and helpless by the end as she tells me to hear the song through it all . . . I’ll probably lose consciousness around noon, but it’ll be for a good cause.

“No . . . they’ll even have trouble understanding the definition.” Slowly I crawl up onto the table, hooding my eyes. “I find it a lot easier to let my mist flow from bare skin. I’m not sure why, but that’s probably why it more naturally rises to my lips and my hands. May I . . . disrobe, Mistress?”

Even if normally she doesn’t wait for her girls to wake up, Mistress does love being involved. She savors being a part of the process. Her face lights up in the most erotic grin as she places the headphones over each girl’s ears. They barely even react, but she does. “Of course, my little nebula. I expect nothing but the best performances from you, so I see no reason to hold you back.”

My clothes are folded in a neat pile in my chair before she slides the last of the headphones into place over Tasha’s ears. I lay back on the table, my legs spread out towards Mistress’s seat. My eyes close. I can feel my body so much better naked, and I need to feel myself to control my mist. I take in a deep, slow breath, and begin to release my mist. Four shimmering tendrils of amethyst-silver light reach out towards my costars, wrapping around them, sliding inside them, shining away their resistance against the song that fills their minds.

I can taste four sets of the same feeling, four nearly identical interpretations of the same song writing into their cores. I dive my power deeper into them, tightening it around them, and I can feel their state of mind becoming my own.

Just like with Mom in the hotel room, or after Aurora, only this time I wanted it. This time I did it on purpose. Their surrender to the song becomes my surrender as my nipples quiver in the cool office air and my sex begins to soak the table. I can feel all five of us as one, surrendering as one, obeying as one, and it sends shudders down my spine.

Mistress leans in close and I mewl at the sound of her voice. I love obeying Mistress, so much. “Lose yourself to the song now, my sweet little frontwoman, and when you awaken you’ll be making new music.”

The song plays loudly in my ears, powerfully, as if it were the first time I’d ever heard it, and I join my band members in obedient surrender.